Reading Made Easy for Foreigners - Third Reader eBook

At noon, the air is still, mild, and soft. You
see blue smoke off by the distant wood and hills.
The brook is almost dry. The water runs over
the pebbles with a soft, low murmur. The goldenrod
is on the hill, the aster by the brook, and the sunflower
in the garden.

The twitter of the birds is still heard. The
sheep graze upon the brown hillside. The merry
whistle of the plowboy comes up from the field, and
the cow lows in the distant pasture.

As the sun sinks in the October haze, the low, south
wind creeps over the dry tree-tops, and the leaves
fall in showers upon the ground. The sun sinks
lower, and lower, and is gone; but his bright beams
still linger in the west. Then the evening star
is seen shining with a soft, mellow light, and the
moon rises slowly in the still and hazy air.

November comes. The flowers are all dead.
The grass is pale and white. The wind has blown
the dry leaves into heaps. The timid rabbit
treads softly on the dry leaves. The crow calls
from the high tree-top. The sound of dropping
nuts is heard in the wood. Children go out morning
and evening to gather nuts for the winter. The
busy little squirrels will be sure to get their share.

SELECTION XIV

THE RETORT

One day, a rich man, flushed with pride
and wine,
Sitting with guests at table,
all quite merry,
Conceived it would be vastly fine
To crack a joke upon his secretary.

“Young man,” said he, “by
what art, craft, or trade
Did your good father earn
his livelihood?”
“He was a saddler, sir,” the
young man said;
“And in his line was
always reckoned good.”

“A saddler, eh? and had you stuffed
with Greek,
Instead of teaching you like
him to sew?
And pray, sir, why did not your father
make
A saddler, too, of you?”
At this each flatterer, as in duty bound,
The joke applauded, and the
laugh went round.

At length the secretary, bowing low,
Said (craving pardon if too
free he made),
“Sir, by your leave I fain would
know
Your father’s trade.”

“Indeed! excuse the liberty I take;
But if your story’s
true,
How happened it your father did not make
A gentleman of you?”

G. P. Morris.

LESSON XLII

WORDS AND THEIR MEANING

I tell you earnestly, you must get into the habit
of looking intensely at words, and assuring yourself
of their meaning, syllable by syllable, nay, letter
by letter. You might read all the books in the
British Museum, if you could live long enough, and
remain an utterly illiterate, uneducated person; but
if you read ten pages of a good book, letter by letter,—­that
is to say, with real accuracy,—­you are
forevermore, in some measure, an educated person.